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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109209">Physical Comforts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerGardener/pseuds/PurpleFlowerGardener'>PurpleFlowerGardener</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, No use of y/n, Not Beta Read, Not Happy, Porn With Plot, Post-Season/Series 02, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:33:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerGardener/pseuds/PurpleFlowerGardener</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’d half expected him to look like the child. You’d wondered a few times if Grogu would lose his ears as he aged, or if his species, and Mando’s species, were some kind of mimic. If they grew to look like the creatures that raised them. He’d mentioned his parents once, but he’d never said what they looked like. Mando never went into that topic very deeply. All you knew was that they’d died when he was very young.</p><p>And so when he took off his helmet to say goodbye to his son, you were caught off guard by more than one facet of his appearance. First, he wasn’t green or particularly wrinkly. He looked, well, human. A middle-aged human man, with curly brown hair and sad brown eyes, and a little facial hair. A strong jaw and a slightly crooked nose, and boring, human ears. </p><p>He was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Physical Comforts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey yeah I'm aware that the tense changes half way through. I did it on purpose. I swear. I didn't just change tense in the middle of writing a sex scene and then just say "FUCK THIS" and make that whole section the different tense. that is definitely not what just happened.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’d half expected him to look like the child. You’d wondered a few times if Grogu would lose his ears as he aged, or if his species, and Mando’s species, were some kind of mimic. If they grew to look like the creatures that raised them. He’d mentioned his parents once, but he’d never said what they looked like. Mando never went into that topic very deeply. All you knew was that they’d died when he was very young.</p><p>And so when he took off his helmet to say goodbye to his son, you were caught off guard by more than one facet of his appearance. First, he wasn’t green or particularly wrinkly. He looked, well, human. A middle-aged human man, with curly brown hair and sad brown eyes, and a little facial hair. A strong jaw and a slightly crooked nose, and boring, human ears. </p><p>He was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.</p><p>The pain on his face brought you back to the reality of the situation. The Jedi with the green lightsaber walked off the bridge with Grogu in his arms. The little green womp rat was with his own kind. You knew you should feel happiness that Mando’s quest was finally finished, but you only felt a hollow sort of gnawing in your chest. It was not the simple pain of sadness, it rested lower inside you than heartbreak. It took its bite of your soul low in your ribs, just above your stomach, in your diaphragm. You felt like you could breathe in and in and in and in forever and never make the gnawing go away. You couldn’t imagine how Din felt at that moment. His foundling, his son. Gone. </p><p>---</p><p>Din had sought physical comforts from you before. You were mostly a mechanic and sometimes, well, often you were also a babysitter. He’d grown fond of you too, though. You found that anyone who wasn’t malicious and was around Din for longer than a few days bonded with him. And even if he often pretended he didn’t care about those he bonded with, you knew he did. Grogu was evidence of that. Hell, you were evidence of that. He’d saved your life more times than you could count on both hands. </p><p>For better or worse, Din was the most soft-hearted bounty hunter in the galaxy. And he’d bonded with you. And you? Well, caring didn’t always come easy to you. You’d been shocked and scared by just how quickly he’d become- what. What had he become to you? Both of you had needs, were both interested in members of the opposite sex, and had intimate understandings of each other’s boundaries. You both knew what you could ask for, and what to leave to fantasy. </p><p>And it worked well. You had money and were sexually satisfied. Despite your time away from family and children in your homeworld, you still had some semblance of mothering instincts, and so you got joy from becoming a surrogate to Grogu. And on some childish level, you got a great deal of happiness from being liked and needed by the Mandalorian. The space cowboy who needed nothing but his ship and his son also needed you around, on some level. Being needed by someone so independent was gratifying. </p><p>But you still hesitated before the door to the officer’s quarters that Din had crashed in. Bo-Katan had taken command of the light cruiser, Cara Dune and Moff Gideon had left with Boba Fett and Fennec. He was alone surrounded by other high power warriors who wanted something he had and would fight him to get back. Somehow he’d programmed the ship’s security systems to only let people he wanted to come in, in. More of Bo-Katan’s Mandalorian comrades arrived hourly. They left you alone for the most part. They thought you were the key to getting the dark saber back Bo-Katan’s possession. </p><p>He knew you were outside his door. There was a camera just above each officer’s door in the hallway. Something was tight in your throat. You held up your hand to knock and put it down. You held up your hand again, and once again, put it down. You sat next to his door, breathing. </p><p>This didn't make sense. You LIKED him. As a little kid, you’d dreamed of meeting some kind of prince charming. You’d imagined finding love. And it had felt good. Imagining being loved unconditionally. And you’d felt it sometimes with Din, the blossoming in your heart that meant “DANGER DANGER DANGER” inside your head. Because love means pain. You’d learned that early on, just as soon as you’d learned that there's no such thing as prince charming.</p><p>But you didn’t have just yourself to think about anymore. Din was probably wondering what you were doing, sitting just outside his door, having a mental breakdown. You wiped your face, breathed as deeply and evenly as you could for a while, and stood. You faced the door, squared your shoulders, and knocked. </p><p>Just as soon as the sound of pounded metal met your ears, the doors parted. You breathed and stepped inside.</p><p>---</p><p>Din’s room is dark. The air is warm but not hot, and it smells like the rest of the ship- the air filtration systems are immaculate. Everywhere smells like the neutral of oxygen tinged with the slightest hint of metal. </p><p>The room is quiet. You blink for a while as your eyes adjust to the dark. You’re staying in a similar room, so you sort of know what the room would look like. Steril. A tiny kitchenette and table. A desk, and a double bed with black cotton sheets. Maybe some family photos if this room had been used recently. </p><p>You realize you can hear him breathing. There is the constant hum of engines and the air system, but underneath those louder sounds, you can hear the quiet rhythm of Din’s breath. </p><p>“I’m here,” He whispers, his voice hoarse. You put your hands out to try and make your way towards his voice without hitting anything and shuffled forward. After a few steps, something takes your arm, a warm, ungloved hand. He’s reaching up from somewhere, the bed maybe. These rooms were very small. </p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner,” you say, holding his hand in yours. He shifts a little, the sound of blankets rubbing together. He guides you forward in the dark until your thighs bump the soft mattress. You trace a line up his arm with your fingers, finding nothing but more skin for you to explore. You stop at the base of his neck, but his other hand reaches up out of the darkness and guides your hand up to his chin. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, you cup the side of his face in your hand. He leans his head into you. “I’m so sorry I left you alone, Din.”</p><p>He’s sitting on the bed. You feel his bare knee with the side of your own. His hands find your waist, and he leans forward until his forehead rests on your sternum, and he wraps his arms around you. You hook your elbows over his shoulders and cradle his head in your arms. </p><p>“I’m glad you’re here now,” He mumbles, somewhat muted by the cloth of your shirt. For the first time, you bury your face in his hair. You stand like that for a long time, his hair growing damp from the tears you couldn’t tell were falling. Din breathes, and you breathe, and you both cry into each other. And all the thoughts of fear you’d had just outside his door are gone, replaced with sorrow that you’d both given up a son, and also the sorrow that you’d waited so long to feel this pain with Din, wrapped up in each other’s arms. </p><p>Din’s the first to move. You find yourself stiff from having been locked in that one position for so long. He grabs your upper arm and guides you to his level, and he kisses you. It is slow, nothing beyond the lips, and both of you are trembling so hard that it couldn’t have been a skillful kiss even if you’d tried. You feel his wavering breath on your mouth, and you kiss him again, the parting only sweet that it might be brief. Din reaches up to the collar of your flight suit and begins to pull the zipper down, oh so slowly. You shrug out of the stiff material, Din’s hands already behind your back, unclasping your bra. You kick off your shoes, the legs of the suit, and toss your bra somewhere behind you. Din hesitantly touches the skin of your ribs just under your breasts, and you take his hand and bring it closer until it seems like he doesn’t need your help anymore. He very gently cups your breast and squeezes,  brushing your skin with his thumb, exploring. He lets out a very quiet sound, more air than vocalization. He gently pinches your nipple, and you unintentionally mimic his sound, an inrush of air, a spike of something magical just tickling the base of your spine. </p><p>“I love you,” You whisper, and Din’s hand freezes. You look down at him, his eyes glinting with some light you couldn’t put a source to. He gazes up at you, the intimacy of confirmed eye contact making your throat tight. “I mean it. All of this sucks, a lot. And nothing but time will make it hurt less. But you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be in your corner as long as you want me there. I’ll follow you to the ends of the universe if that's what you want.”</p><p>He blinks up at you. The silence surrounding you and this man of few words is tense enough to cut it with a knife. He swallows and blinks harder. “I love you too,” He says quietly. “But I won’t make you go to the ends of the universe for me.”</p><p>You grin at him. You lean down and kiss him, and kneel on the bed with your knees trapping Din’s thighs between them. Din’s hands lift you as he scoots back on the mattress and gently sets you down, conveniently closer to him than you’d been before. Your heartbeat begins to quicken as Din’s hands grab you by the hips, fiddling with the material of your underwear. </p><p>“What’s this still doing here?” He mumbles into your shoulder, and you both laugh quietly. He pulls your underwear down your thighs. </p><p>“Hmm hold on,” You say, shifting away from Din, who makes a soft hum of annoyance. You stand back on the cool ground and drop your panties the rest of the way and knee walk back to Din, who has lain down with his feet barely hanging off the edge of the bed. </p><p>He is utterly immaculate in the gray dark. His armor adds muscle to his silhouette but he does not need it to make him an impressive figure. Here lies Adonis, between your thighs. He reaches out for you as you slowly make your way up his body, his hands pulling you forward, exploring your thighs with the topographical precision of a master mapmaker. He slowly edges higher and higher, and by the time you’re close enough to make the oh so pleasant physical joining, his fingers are between your legs, feeling just how much you want him. There is building pressure in your lower belly and his hands are teasing you, one planted firmly on your ass and the other stroking your folds with a purposefully slow rhythm. You buck just a little against his hand, and you can see him smirk in the dark.</p><p>He gives you exactly what you want. This part is so familiar that neither of you has to say a word to get what you want if speaking isn’t in the cards. </p><p>“Tell me what you want, princess,” He murmurs. Your thighs have begun to tremble, his deft fingers hovering just above your clit.</p><p>“Touch me,” you whisper. </p><p>“You’ll have to be more specific,” He says, his words dripping with sarcasm. You lean forward, so close that you’re nose to nose, Din’s eyes hooded and lazy.</p><p>“Do I though?” You ask, daring him. He cracks a small smile. He leans up and kisses you slowly, biting your bottom lip as he parts. He suddenly touches you and a spike of pleasure straightens your spine and you cry out as he works a finger inside you.</p><p>“You’re such a spoilsport,” he says, working his finger inside you. You bite your lip as he puts a second finger inside you. As he curls his fingers where he knows you like it best, you can’t help but cry out, waves of pleasure breaking over you. You can feel yourself fluttering around him, and through your slitted eyes, you can see the concentration on his face building. He’s poking you in the ass and suddenly you’re reminded that you came here to comfort him, not the other way around. </p><p>“Din,” You say, voice high and breathy. </p><p>“I love it when you say my name like that,” he whispers, pressing his thumb against your clit. Instead of continuing the sentence as you had planned, you cry out a string of incomprehensible nonsense mixed in with all the curse words you know and also Din’s name. You cry his name like a prayer, and behind your high whine, you hear him groan. </p><p>“Cum for me,” he whispers, curling his fingers inside you. You rock forward, a few tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes. The pressure inside yourself is becoming unbearable, and just as it almost turns from pleasure to pain, it hits you like a tidal wave, and suddenly the world turns pink, and a fireworks show has randomly gone off in Din’s room, and your spine is as straight as it ever is, and you wonder if you’ve ever felt as good as in this moment. </p><p>The first coherent sensation you take in is to realize your throat hurts. And suddenly you remember chanting Din’s name at the top of your lungs until your mind couldn’t make coherent words anymore. And then you feel Din’s hand on your cheek, brushing away the stray tears.</p><p>“Are you ok?” He asks, and you nod. You simply breathe, Din’s hand on your cheek, your hand over his hand. You are still. </p><p>You open your eyes and look down. Din’s watching you in the dark, and he smiles when he sees your eyes. And suddenly, you remember why you’re standing on your knees above him. </p><p>“You’re so good to me,” You sigh. Din smiles. You look down and scoot back, hovering just above him. Din props himself up on his elbows.</p><p>“Do you want to lay down?” He asks but you lean forward and kiss him into silence. He continues to sit up despite your best efforts, and you end up sitting on his thighs with your legs slowly wrapping around his middle.  “You don’t have to if you’re tired-”</p><p>“Shut up,” you say, laughing, kissing him again. He is smiling into your kisses, and you bump noses as you reposition yourself around him. </p><p>“At least tell me if I’m hurting you-”</p><p>You shush him quietly. You hold onto his shoulders for leverage, and slowly sink down onto Din. You watch as a thousand different things pass over his face, perhaps in a way he’s done for you hundreds of times, but this is the first time you’ve gotten to see it. He feels so good inside you, you wish you’d gone this way first. There is something so delightful in feeling him inside you. Nothing has ever felt quite so right. You wonder how you ever survived without him.</p><p>His hands are on your hips and he’s slowly fucking you with sheer arm strength. He has no leverage to use the possible bounce of the mattress, his legs spread beneath you. He lifts you and lets you fall, and you pull yourself ever closer with your heels digging into his ass. And slowly you move your hips around him in the way you know drives him insane. The numbness from your previous orgasm quickly fades and slowly you feel yourself begin to burn up again, Din’s moans intermingling with your own. Din’s fingers are digging into your ass so hard you’re sure he’s leaving a bruise, but you’re too far gone to care.</p><p>You’re approaching your edge again, and you're kissing Din and both of you are moaning with every move either of you make, and his eyes are half-open but you know he isn’t seeing you or anything else, he’s gone to the other place that everyone goes to when they’re getting close to the edge. You want to see it on his face, you’ve never gotten to see his face when he comes, and you are determined to keep your eyes open, no matter how much you want to go to the other place too. </p><p>Din is getting clumsy, what little you can see of his eyes looks frenzied and full of need. He’s grunting with every move and he’s whispering your name, and suddenly he’s fucking you harder and cries out something unintelligible. You watch as his face pinches the slightest bit and then relaxes. You feel his cock twitch inside you, painting your walls white. Din slumps forward his forehead resting on your shoulder, and now it’s just you. It doesn’t take much, especially when you can feel him smiling into your flesh as he reaches up to play with your nipple again. </p><p>And suddenly you’re falling, crashing through a wall of glass, and all the air is sucked out of you, and you’re clenching around Din harder than you would a life raft, and you are suddenly made of electricity and boiling water. Someone has injected battery acid directly into your heart, and all you can do is ride the high out, sitting on Din’s cock. </p><p>Din pulls you into his chest and leans back slowly so you can adjust as he goes. He lies back with you resting on his chest. The rise and fall of his chest is what you notice first when you come back from the other place. </p><p>“Are you alright?” He asks and you nod into his chest. </p><p>“Cold,” you mumble. Din shifts a tiny bit, but then there is a rustling sound and the end of Din’s blankets flip up to cover you both. “Sleepy.”</p><p>“Sleep,” Din says, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You do as he commands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all know that tiktok that goes like; "If you're gonna call me a whORE you better put (X) in front of it!" yeah that's me lately but X is Pedro Pascal. </p><p>Speaking of being a whore, anyone know where I can pirate Kingsmen the golden circle or whatever it's called? I don't want to pay amazon for it. fuck Jeff Bezos.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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